Mira Wavehush – Net-Mender / Fogline Warden
“When the fog comes down, we don’t panic. We tie off. We count heads. We go quiet.”
Name: Mira Wavehush
Race: Human
Role/Class: Net-Mender / Fogline Warden
Appearance: Mira Wavehush is a lean, weather-hardened woman with a calm face that rarely shows surprise. Her skin is sun-browned and salted, her hands nicked with old line cuts, and her nails always carry traces of tar and fish oil. She wears her dark hair in a low braid tucked beneath a simple wool cap, and her eyes—soft gray, almost mist-colored—seem to rest on people a heartbeat longer than is comfortable, as if she’s taking attendance without saying so.
She dresses in practical layers: a patched sea-cloak, a thick knit sweater, and trousers bound at the calf for wading. A net-mender’s kit hangs at her hip—needles, twine, small bone shuttles, and a hook knife. Her boots are scuffed and seaworn, and her belt holds a small pouch of smooth stones used as sink weights. Around her neck is a quiet charm: a strip of kelp-dyed cord tied in a fisher’s knot, worn tight like a promise.
Backstory
Whitecap is the kind of hamlet people forget until they need it—until a storm pushes a ship too close, until fog erases the road, until someone vanishes between lanterns and the only people who know the routes are the ones who live there. Mira was born in Whitecap and learned early that the sea doesn’t care what you planned. It cares what you prepared.
She started as a net-mender, the kind of work that is invisible until it fails. Mira became known for repairs that held through cruel weather—tight knots, honest twine, no shortcuts. Fisherfolk began bringing her more than nets: torn sails, frayed lifelines, cracked harness straps. Then they started bringing her people: someone lost to panic, someone injured on slick rocks, someone too proud to admit they needed help.
Mira never asked to lead. She just kept showing up.
During a particularly brutal fog season, a cluster of travelers tried to push through the cliff paths despite warnings. They got turned around and nearly walked off the wrong ledge. Mira organized the search—rope lines, lantern spacing, whistles kept low so sound would carry without attracting trouble. She brought everyone back except one: a boy who slipped away when panic hit. The hamlet found him days later, alive, cold, and half-mad with fear after sheltering in a sea cave.
Mira has never forgiven herself for the gap in her count.
Now she serves as Whitecap’s quiet leader when weather turns cruel: coordinating lantern routes, assigning watchers, preparing shelters, and quietly telling outsiders “no” when their plans will get them killed. She doesn’t rule. She steadies.
